


In the Dead of the Night

by YinNocturne



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Baby Cloud, Gen, Nibelheim life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 10:39:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16135526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YinNocturne/pseuds/YinNocturne
Summary: Cloud has long been accustomed to waking in the night, or perhaps he simply never learned to sleep through in a single block of sleep.





	In the Dead of the Night

In Nibelheim there was always a need to check on things in the dark hours. The fire needed stoking, the animals and the garden, the paths would all need to be checked in the pitch dark before the coldest part of the night, just before the dawn. So Cloud and Mama rose, after first sleeping four or so restful hours soon after the last meal of the day just as the dark set in. There was no point in staying up past sunset, candles were a precious commodity in Nibelheim, the reactor wasn’t always reliable. And the Strife house wasn’t connected to the town’s power supply, so light was precious. 

As a baby and a young child, Cloud was cuddled against Mama’s chest under her coat as she went outside. Swaddled in his own woollen sleepsuit with added beanie, mittens and booties for extra insulation. The house would be too cold for a small child, except for right in front of the fire, and Cloud wasn’t allowed until he was seven. 

At seven he was too big to be carried, but still to small too hold enough heat outside for long. So he helped move firewood from the covered verandah inside to take the chill off it in preparation for the next day’s heating and cooking. Cloud wasn’t yet allowed to stoke the fire by himself yet, but he was charged with watching over it.

“You yell for me if you think it’s going to choke, alright?” Mama told him, “And always leave the grate on.”

“Always?” he’d whined, it was far warmer without the grate.

“You won’t get to take the grate off until you’re eleven. Just like I couldn’t. I’m sure you’ll manage Cloud, at least you don’t have an older sister to brag about being allow to stoke the fire.” Mama laughed and ruffled his hair, before putting on the tough leather gloves kept by the door, they went on over the cherry red and cream woollen gloves that she wore through the night. 

Those gloves had been a gift from her annoying older sister, before Auntie Sky had left, following work to Junon. Auntie Sky was a mechanic, the motorcycle they took into town for supplies had been hers once. 

“You’ll get more out of it than I would, Misty. It’s tuned for the cold up here more than the warmth and salt-spray of Junon.” Auntie Sky had said with a smirk.

“Rubbing it in, of course, Clearsky.” But Mama was smiling for all her words sounded mean. 

Auntie Sky had left Nibelheim and their little house when Cloud was five. Before she left Auntie Sky had given him a coat, scuffed but sturdy brown leather and a patched lining of brushed fleece. It dwarfed him for years but it was beautifully warm and stopped the wind from cutting through him nearly so bad. Cloud wore that jacket near every day until he left for Midgar, when he hung it on the peg by the door in favour of his cadet jacket.    
  



End file.
